•A-  FEW-  POEMS- 


A  FEW  POEMS 


PRINTED     FOR     THE     AUTHOR 


SAN    FRANCISCO 
BACON  d-  COMPANY 


TO 

G.  E.  W. 


567474 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

With  a  Bunch   of  Roses 7 

A  Winter  Song 9 

With   a   Deer's    Head 12 

Two  Spring  Days 15 

Love  and  Sleep 18 

Coward   Death 19 

On  a  Piece  of  Music 22 

To  the  Bride 23 

Genius  Dead 26 

On  the  Eve  of  a  Voyage     .'....            .      .  28 

The  Absent    Sailor 29 

In  the  Grave 32 

Wagner 34 

Ballad  of  the  North-Wind 38 


WITH  A  BUNCH  OF  ROSES. 

Lady,  accept  to  mark  this  day 

A  poor  admirer's  poor  bouquet : 

A  bunch  of  roses  all  I  send, 

Yet  something  fits  them  for  my  friend 

Better  than  costly  gift  of  gold  ; 

For  if  her  praise  be  truly  told, 

Her's  is  the  pride,  'mid  love  of  pelf, 

To  rise  above  low  thoughts  of  self, 

And  in  a  world  where  self  rules  all 

To  hold  her  self  in  others'  thrall. 

Oh,  then,  behold  !  the  Queen  of  flowers — 

The  Rose  that  reigns  in  all  earth's  bowers- 


WITH  A   BUNCH  OF  ROSES. 


Heedless  of  her  queenly  station, 
Sinking  self  in  abnegation, 
The  humblest  subject  now  would  be, 
Flower  of  women,  here  to  thee  ! 


A    WINTER  SONG. 


A  WINTER  SONG. 

Red-berried  laurel,  let  me  sing 

A  little  song  to  thee, 
For  hearts  with  happy  thoughts  upspring 

Beside  thy  gayety. 

England  shall  praise  her  holly  bough, 

Its  glossy  green  and  red ; 
But  I,  who  know  the  holly,  vow 

More  praises  on  thy  head. 

Bright  as  the  flame  amid  dark  pines 
That  marks  the  camp-fire's  blaze,— 

So  bright  thy  ruddy  cluster  shines 
Amid  dark  winter  days. 


A    WINTER  SONG. 


Red  as  the  blood  for  country's  sake 
That  stains  the  soldier's  side, — 

So  red  thy  cheerful  berries  take 
Their  death  for  Christmas-tide. 

That  shapely  Redskin  of  the  wood, 
The  lithe,  smooth-limbed  madrone, 

Where  once,  outflushing  Youth,  it  stood, 
Is  somewhat  pallid  grown. 

But  thou  wait'st  not  for  Summer-time 
Among  the  flowers  to  please : 

As  man  seeks  fame  'mid  polar  rime 
And  scorns  soft  tropic  seas — 

So  dauntlessly,  when  many  a  tree 
Bows  down  its  crownless  head, 

Thy  face  is  raised  for  earth  to  see 
All  nature  is  not  dead. 


A    WINTER  SONG. 


Keep  green  thy  boughs,  O  cheery  tree ! 

O  cheery  tree,  keep  green  ! 
In  darkest  days  may  I,  like  thee, 

Be  ever  cheery  seen  ! 


WITH  A  DEER'S  HEAD. 


WITH  A  DEER'S  HEAD. 

Take  with  good  will 
Here  from  a  friend, — 

Though  it  but  ill 
Suits  me  to  send,— 

This  souvenir 

Of  the  wild  lake 
Where  the  shy  deer 

Stir  every  brake. 

Their's  the  delight, 
Where  nothing  bars, 

Roaming  at  night 
Under  the  stars. 


WITH  A  DEER'S  HEAD. 


Meeting  the  day, 

Ghost-like  they  tread : 
Softly  as  they, 

Move  not  the  dead. 

Till  on.  their  ears 

Baying  of  hounds 
Falls  and  with  fears 

Spurs  them  to  bounds. 

Swifter  than  fire, 
Heedless  of  brush, 

Hills  cannot  tire, 
Onward  they  rush. 

Bang  ! — But  the  speed 
Laughs  in  man's  face. 

Bang! — Shall  man's  greed 
Mar  such  a  pace  ? 


ll'ITff  A  DEER'S  HEAD. 


Sale  away  ! — Bang! — 
Death  in  that  shot : 

Never  more  sprang 
Buck  from  that  spot. 

What  was  the  gain 
Grace  so  to  mar  ? — 

(Victory  vain  !)  — 

Horns  !     Here  they  are. 


TWO  SPRING  DA  YS.  15 


TWO  SPRING  DAYS. 

The  West-wind  is  blowing, 
Winter  is  going ; 
Kites  in  the  air 
Fly  everywhere ; 
The  linnet's  Spring  ditty 
Sounds  sweet  in  the  city ; 
Every  garden  is  seen 
Now  bedecked  with  new  green ; 
And  the  hills  smiling  down 
On  the  toil  of  the  town, 
All  in  sunlight  and  shade, 
Look  as  soft  as  the  round  dimpled  cheek  of  a  maid. 


1 6  Tiro  SPRING  DA  VS. 

Hark  ! — the  fair  days  are  past 
And  the  strengthening  blast 
Of  the  West-wind's  commotion 
Resounds  from  the  ocean  ! 
With  clangor  terrific, 
Across  the  Pacific, 
Driving  sea-mists  before, 
How  he  leaps  to  the  shore  !— 
Taking  clutch  as  he  lands 
Of  the  granulous  sands, 
Which  he  sows  without  pity 
Through  fogs  on  the  city, 
While  the  sky  every  day 
Is  made  dismal  with  gray, 
And  the  stars  every  night 
Are  all  blurred  out  of  sight, 
And  the  dust-eddies  whirl 
Through  the  streets  with  a  mouth,  nose,  and  eye-filling  swirl. 


TWO  SPRING  DA  VS.  17 

Oh,  let  skies,  as  they  list, 
Change  from  sunshine  to  mist ! 
Tis  no  hue  of  the  sky 
Paints  the  world  to  my  eye, 
But  the  warm  heart  of  one 
Never  dimmed  like  the  sun 
On  my  path  casts  the  shine 
Of  a  sunlight  divine. 
What  to  me  though  a  doom 
Be  in  store  for  Spring's  bloom, 
Or  though  never  a  note 
Come  from  Summer's  dry  throat  ? 
In  the  year  that  I  know, 
There  is  no  ebb  and  flow, 
For  (all  seasons  above) 
I  walk  in  the  warmth  and  the  light  of  thy  love. 


LOVE  AND  SLEEP. 


LOVE  AND  SLEEP. 

Love  heaves  the  blood  like  a  tide  of  the  ocean 
And  sends  it  in  surges  to  break  on  the  heart : 

Sleep  spreads  a  calm  o'er  the  spirit's  emotion 
And  rocks  it  to  rest  only  Sleep  can  impart. 

So  Sleep  hateth  Love  and  will  never  go  nigh  to  him, 
However  Love  longingly  Sleep  would  delay  : — 

All  the  night  long  Love  may  wearily  sigh  to  him, 
Sleep  will  not  hearken,  but  hastens  away. 


COWARD  DEATH.  19 


COWARD  DEATH. 

Death,  how  long  you  were  afraid  ! 
Eager  though  you  were  to  smite, 
Coward,  how  you  slunk  from  sight  ! 
All  around  him  though  your  blade 
Cut  its  swath,  it  never  made 

Move  to  hurt  him,  though  its  might 
Darkened  many  another's  light. 
Oh,  what  tireless  joy  of  living  through  his  limbs 
with  rapture  played  ! 

But  beside  him  everywhere,— 
By  the  hearth  and  in  the  heather, 
Summer-time  and  wintry  weather,— 

Like  his  shadow,  you  were  there  ! 


COWARD  DEATH. 


Viewless  as  the  empty  air, 
Noiseless  as  a  falling  feather, 
(Thirty  years  you  two  together  !) 
Watching  for  a  chance  to  strike  him,  Coward, 
could  you  dare. 

But  you  quailed ;  for  not  alone, 
Guardless,  on  his  way  he  went  : 
Two  defenders  Fate  had  sent — 
Trustier  not  on  man  bestown — 
Youth  and  Strength,  whose  shields  were  thrown 
Ever  toward  the  least  intent 
Barbed  with  pain  or  detriment. 
And  you  quailed  at  their  bright  prowess  and  recoiled 
with  baffled  moan. 

O  the  sight  beyond  compare — 

Youth  and  Strength  and  he  together, 


COWARD  DEATH. 


Marching  through  the  Highland  heather, 
In  the  Hebridean  air  ! 
Manhood  never  shone  more  fair  : 
In  the  sunny  Summer  weather, 
Not  a  heart  but  (as  a  feather) 
Fluttered  to  behold  him  blithe  and  fearless 
everywhere. 

Till,  at  last,  Love  joined  the  band, 
Love  that  Fate  would  not  assuage  :— 
Youth  grew  thoughtful,  then,  as  Age ; 
And  from  Strength's  enfeebled  hand 
Fell  the  shield.     Behold  him  stand 
Stripped  and  helpless  to  engage 
Even  with  a  coward's  rage  ! — 
Then,  O  Death,  your  base  invasion  cut  in  two 
life's  slender  strand  ! 


ON  A  PIECE  OF  MUSIC. 


ON  A  PIECE  OF  MUSIC  COMPOSED  FOR  A 
FRIEND'S  WEDDING. 

O  bridegroom,  Music  takes  her  lyre 

And  sings  her  sweetest  air, 
That  all  the  joy  in  all  our  hearts 

May  find  an  echo  there. 

For  Music,  mistress  of  men's  souls, 

Has  been  your  mistress  too ; 
And  as  your  joy  was  honoring  her, 

So  she  would  honor  you. 


TO  THE  BRIDE. 


TO  THE  BRIDE. 

Had  a  stranger  demanded, — "What  have  you  to  show 
Of  women  whose  fairness  shall  not  fall  below 
The  fame  that  belongs  to  your  fruit,  flowers,  and  gold  ?  " 
Then  proudly  by  me  had  that  stranger  been  told  : 
"You  should  see  Isabelle  !" 

Had  he  said,—"  Yes,  for  beauty.     But  how  about  brains  ? 
You  gold-diggers  give  yourselves  infinite  pains 
To  fill  up  your  pockets ;  but  filling  the  head — 
Is  there  any  true  culture  ?  " — Again  I  had  said  : 
"  Wait  and  see  Isabelle  !  " 

Had  he  doubted  of  manners,  I'd  pointed  to  one 
The  peer  of  all  courtesy  under  the  sun, 


TO  THE  BRIDE. 


Whose  speech  never  otherwise  lets  her  be  seen 
Than  cordial,  yet  dignified,  truly  a  queen. 
"  And  her  name  ?  "  "  Isabelle  ! " 

And  if  he  had  scoffed, — "  These  are  well  in  their  way  : 
AVit,  beauty,  and  manners — they  make  their  display. 
But  before  they  a  charm  unto  life  can  impart, 
You  must  show  me  besides  them  a  true  woman's  heart  :" 
My  reply,—"  Isabelle  !" 

Yes,  thus  had  I  answered  and  thus  truly  thought, 
Till  the  stranger  to  shame  for  his  doubting  was  brought ; 
But  a  stranger,  too  canny  to  parley  or  doubt, 
Came  along  and  his  own  eyes  spied  Isabelle  out, 
And  he  won  Isabelle ; 

And  she  leaves  us,  she  leaves — ah,  the  land  of  her  birth, 
For  a  home  at  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth, — 
A  land  every  day  that's  as  bright  as  a  flower, 


TO  THE  BRIDE.  25. 


For  one  with  the  darkness  of  mists  for  its  dower  : 
We  have  lost  Isabelle  ! 

There  are  warm  hearts  in  Scotland,  God  knows 

how  they  've  bled  : 
For  Prince  Charles,  for  Queen  Mary  what 

heart's  blood  was  shed  ! 
May  an  equal  devotion  be  thine  to  the  end- 
Is  the  prayer  of  one  always  and  truly  thy  friend  ! 
Fare  thee  well,  Isabelle  ! 


GENIUS  DEAD. 


GENIUS  DEAD. 

"  O  grave >  where  is  thy  victory  ?  " 

Out  of  darkness  into  day, 

A  little  while  with  men  to  stay, 

Loving  friends  were  his  alway: 

Now  he  lies— ah,  there  ! 
Like  a  meteor  sped  from  sight, 
Like  a  lost  love's  past  delight, 
Like  his  laughter  yester-night — 

He  is  gone — ah,  where  ? 

But  his  work  remains  behind, 
Deathless  offspring  of  his  mind, 
Humanizing  all  mankind 
By  the  light  it  gives. 


GENIUS  DEAD. 


Oh,  then,  mourners,  dry  your  tears  ! 
Conquered  are  the  coming  years  ; 
See  how  paltry  Death  appears : 
He  is  dead,  yet  lives ! 


ON  THE  EVE  OF  A    VOYAGE. 


ON  THE  EVE  OF  A  VOYAGE. 

O  thou  who  for  two  years  hast  filled  my  mind 
More  than  the  thought  of  all  the  world  beside, 
Making  the  days  no  longer  to  divide 

In  measurements  which  science  has  divined — 

Since  it  is  sunrise  when  I  see  thee  first,, 

And  sunset  when  at  last  thou  say'st  Good  Night, 
Or  when  thy  windows  cease  to  flash  the  light 

Which  for  thy  presence  partly  stills  my  thirst : 

Dear  heart  of  hearts,  one  kiss  and  then  farewell  ! 

I  give  my  body  to  the  rolling  sea ; 
But  will  not  still  a  thousand  omens  tell, 

My  soul  meets  nightly  in  this  wood  with  thee  ? 


THE  ABSENT  SAILOR. 


THE  ABSENT  SAILOR. 

EXCERPTS  FRDM  A  NARRATIVE    POEM, 
I, 

Bedirnmed  with  long,  vain  scanning  of  the  sea, 

Her  eyes  take  lustre  as  her  musings  roam 

To  Cornwall,  his  high,  sea-lashed,  thunderous  home: 

O  Cornwall,  rocky  Cornwall  ! 

Thy  men  are  stout  and  brave, 
They  take  life's  buffets  like  thy  cliffs 

That  front  the  western  wave. 

O  Cornwall,  sunny  Cornwall  ! 

Where  Spring  comes  early  and  fair, — 
There  are  no  lovelier  maids  than  thine 

In  England  anywhere. 


THE  ABSENT  SAILOR. 


O  Cornwall,  royal  Cornwall ! 

Mother  of  maids  and  men, — 
There  Tristram  died  for  Iseult's  sake  : 

Ah,  sorely  love  smote  then  ! 

O  Cornwall,  happy  Cornwall  ! 

Let  my  love  live  for  me, 
And  let  me  live  to  see  his  child 

Sit  smiling  on  my  knee  ! 

II. 

Then  on  the  sands  she  poured  this  wailing  forth 
To  whom  ?  if  not,  lost  lord  of  her  heart,  to  thee,- 
Strong  son  of  Cornwall,  somewhere  on  the  sea: 

Where  art  thou  nowr,  my  Cornish  heart? 

No  sail  is  on  the  sky, 
The  sea  spreads  trackless  out  of  sight, 

The  wind  goes  speechless  by. 


THE  ABSENT  SAILOR. 


I've  watched  a  hundred  ships  come  in, 

A  hundred  ships  go  out ; 
But  watching  only  breaks  my  heart, 

It  cannot, quell  my  doubt. 

Perhaps  the  wave  that's  at  my  feet 

Has  felt  thy  vessel's  keel : 
Oh,  give  me,  God,  the  power  to  guess 

One  word  it  could  reveal ! 

Perhaps  yon  star  that  lights  the  pole 
Shines  where  thou,  too,  canst  see : 

Oh,  'might  our  glances  meet  therein 
And  tell  me,  love,  of  thee  ! 

Where  art  thou  now,  my  Cornish  heart? 

Till  this  be  answered  true, 
For  me  there  is  not  peace  nor  sleep 

Nor  anything  but  rue. 


32  IN  THE  GRA  VE. 


IN  THE  GRAVE. 

They  bid  me  join  them  at  the  dance, 
They  bid  me  with  them  riding  go, 

They  chide  me  for  my  mirthless  glance 
And  say,  "  He  was  not  always  so." 

But  oh,  what  now  can  give  me  mirth  ? 

My  love  is  dead, — she  lies  in  earth. 

They  never  knew  her  heart  was  mine, 
Without  a  sigh  they  called  her  dead ; 

But  oh,  I  would  that  Death's  design 
Had  laid  me  in  the  same  cold  bed. 

Away,  away,  and  have  your  mirth  : 

My  love  is  dead, — she  lies  in  earth. 


IN  THE  GRA  VE.  33 


That  dear,  true  heart  beneath  the  sod — 
Oh,  might  I,  like  the  rest,  believe 

She  sleeps  but  till  we  meet  in  God  : 
Then  lightly  could  I  cease  to  grieve  ! 

But  nothing  now  can  bring  back  mirth  : 

My  love  is  dead, — she  lies  in  earth. 


34  WAGNER. 


WAGNER:  A  MEMORIAL  ODE. 

i. 

Dead,  say  they  ?     Deathless  one, 
Live  as  the  living  sun, 
Life-giver,  world-waker, 
Soul-smiting  cloud-breaker, 
Quickening  with  fiery  might 
Hearts  faint  with  worldly  blight, 
Warming  cold  seeds  of  thought 
Which  else  had  sprung  to  nought, 
Waking  to  second  birth 
Beings  long  laid  in  earth, 
First,  in  all  human  ken, 
Master  of  souls  of  men, — 
So  long  as  lives  the  sun, 
Livest  thou,  deathless  one  ! 


WAGNER.  35 


Ah,  but  thou  speak'st  no  more,  thy  last  word's  said 

This  power  alone  has  dull  Death  on  thy  head, — 

Voiceless  to  be,  in  voice  so  like  a  God ; 

Wordless,  whose  words  leapt  as  with  lightning  shod. 

To  see  thee  mute — ah,  Fate,  what  is  the  gain 

That  lips  like  his  should  motionless  remain  ? 

Is  it  for  love  you  let  Death  smite  him  so — 

Love  that  would  fain  his  peerless  voice  forego, 

If  him  unwearied  it  might  thereby  save 

From  yelping  critics  harrying  to  the  grave  ? 

Or  is  it  envy  of  that  generous  heart 

Who  royally  fulfilled  his  royal  part, 

And  once  more  hallowed  the  cheap  name  of  king 

By  lifting  above  strife,  serene  to  sing, 

Him,  of  all  sons  his  native  country  bore, 

Greatest  of  men  since  Goethe  spoke  no  more  ? 


36  WAGNER. 


Or  was  it  fear,  O  Fate,  that  let  Death  smite  ? 
Fear  lest  your  sway  should  suffer  in  earth's  sight, 
If  men  too  long  unhindered  might  rejoice, 
Mindless  of  you,  to  follow  his  sole  voice  ? — 
Sweet  as  the  peace  of  two  hearts  love  makes  one, 
Joyous  as  sunshine,  glad  as  Easter  sun, 
Strong  as  sea  surges,  weak  as  clinging  vines, 
Harsh  as  the  tramp  of  wind  through  mountain  pines, 
Tender  as  blossoms,  soft  as  maiden  lip, 
Fierce  as  foam  leaping  on  a  foundering  ship, 
Radiant  as  smiles  upon  an  infant's  face, 
Keen  as  the  bent  bow  springing  back  to  place, 
Stern  as  the  law  of  life,  mild  as  the  dove, 
Pale  as  dawn  starlight,  red  as  flaming  love. 
Ah,  me  !  that  voice  is  mute,  those  cold  lips  sealed  : 
How  much  is  left  unsaid  will  never  be  revealed. 


WAGNER. 


Ah,  but  Death  has  not  won, 
Shall  not  win,  deathless  one, 
Thee  to  his  shadow-land. 
And  though  his  pallid  hand 
Freeze  thy  lips'  fiery  word, 
Still  shall  thy  voice  be  heard 
Loud  on  the  lips  of  those 
Who  at  thy  will  arose, 
Scatheless  of  Death's  design, 
Quickened  by  breath  of  thine. 
They  hold  the  soul  of  thee 
Now  for  eternity, — 
Life-giver,  world-waker, 
Soul-smiting  cloud-breaker, 
So  long  as  lives  the  sun, 
Livest  thou,  deathless  one  ! 


38  BALLAD  OF  THE  NORTH-WIND. 


BALLAD  OF  THE  NORTH-WIND'. 

Hark  !  on  the  lake  the  North-wind  hunts 

And  drives  his  wintry  pack, — 
A  thousand  foaming  hounds  before, 

The  North-wind  at  their  back. 

His  brother  Frost  rides  by  his  side, 

Armed  with  arrows  frore  : 
Was  ever  baying  heard  till  now 

Voiced  like  the  ocean's  roar? 

Whence  come  they  ?     From  high  Shasta's  snow, 

Far  in  the  unseen  North, 
Bent  on  their  winter's  ravening, 

The  twain  fared  keenly  forth. 


BALLAD  OF  THE  NORTH-WIND.  39 

With  a  bound  they  leapt  from  Shasta's  side, 

And  wild  the  pace  they  rode, 
And  many  a  mountain  barrier 

Their  galloping  bestrode. 

And  through  the  land  as  on  they  passed, 

A  furrow,  like  a  frown, 
Marked  where  the  thick-set  mountain  pines 

Were  trod  and  trampled  down. 

Until  at  last  Elk  Mountain  rose. 

Then  with  a  fierce  delight, 
Quicker  than  powder  springs  to  flame 

They  reached  its  topmost  height. 

There  in  a  whirlwind  they  stood  still. 

Poised  in  the  cloudless  air, 
Like  eagles,  moveless,  they  beheld 

The  goal  that  lured  them  there. 


BALLAD  OF  THE  NORTH-WIND. 


Konockti's  lake  rimmed  round  with  hills 

Gleamed  in  the  wintry  sun : 
As  stars  fall,  with  one  headlong  swoop 

The  water's  marge  was  won. 

Lo  !  at  the  touch  the  North-wind's  hounds,  - 

That  sleep  beneath  the  lake, 
Loosened  their  tongues  in  such  a  note 

As  the  last  trump  shall  make. 

Hark  !  though  the  sun  long  set  should  bid 
The  huntsman's  speed"  grow  slack — 

Hark  !  on  the  lake  the  North-wind  hunts 
And  drives  his  wintry  pack. 

The  stiff  trees  bend  as  the  hunt  goes  by, 
The  trees  blanched  bare  like  bones ; 

Thicker  than  once  last  year  with  leaves 
Their  boughs  are  filled  with  moans. 


BALLAD  OF  THE  NORTH-WIND. 


The  wild  fowl  fly  before  the  blast 
Like  fluttering  Autumn  leaves ; 

With  beak  and  claw  and  steadying  wings, 
The  owl  to  the  pine-top  cleaves. 

Clangor  of  hard  swords  clashed  in  fight, 

Clangor  of  human  wail, 
Wrung  from  a  city  that's  wrapped  in  fire, 

Before  this  clangor  pale. 

Ah,  but  the  dawn  ! — Its  earliest  gleam 
Beheld  the  still  lake  hushed. 

Back  to  his  jagged  Shasta  clefts 
The  wild  North-wind  had  rushed. 

But  lo  !  still  here,  his  brother  Frost, 

A-weary  with  the  chase, 
On  high  Konockti's  summit  sits 

And  rests  him  for  a  space. 


42  BALLAD  OF  THE  NORTH-WIND. 

Gladder  than  lovers'  eyes  he  grew 

On  that  aerial  stand, 
As  his  wide-circling  glance  surveyed 

Glory  of  lake  and  land. 

Joy  at  his  heart  he  felt  exhale 

Like  perfume  out  of  flowers, 
Till  thought  was  dimmed  of  that  far  home 

Where  gathering  thunder  lowers. 

But  then  uprose  the  swift  red  sun 

And  aimed  his  fieriest  ray : 
As  deer  start  at  the  fateful  note 

When  hounds  strike  scent  and  bay — 

Frost  vanished  ;  and  on  Shasta's  side, 

Safe  from  the  withering  sun, 
The  rent  rocks  marked  the  bound  he  made 

The  winter's  chase  was  done. 


YC   14735 


567474- 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


